


What's Left Unsaid

by Draycarla



Series: Shendak Week 2020 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: Sendak and Shiro struggle with expressing themselves.So Sendak does what he thinks is best. He can at least write what he cannot say.Sometimes it's easier to write what we cannot say.
Relationships: Sendak/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Shendak Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592932
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	What's Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> A belated Shendak week day 2! This prompt was Words, and I LOVED IT.
> 
> There's some vague pre-sexy content, but aside from that, dialogue heavy. Their relationship is difficult and a lot of it lives in what's unsaid, but sometimes you really need to talk this shit out.
> 
> I always imagined that Sendak, though he can lie, is generally a pretty truthful guy. Lying is a means, but in some circumstances he refuses to use it. Hats off to him, he's been pretty fucking self-aware.
> 
> In this AU, Shiro didn't die during the fight with Zarkon.

_Champion._

_I find myself conflicted. You are the source of the aforementioned feeling that I do not grasp, and I cannot quantify my thoughts into a coherent conversation with you. As such, I have chosen to use a format I have a preference for. I will assume you understand this._

_When you first arrived upon my ship, I thought little of your existence. It took a few of your fights for my interest to grow. Understand that due to your size and your unremarkable traits, I presumed your victories were won out of luck as opposed to skill. You know me enough to know my views on that. In time, I had to accept my initial assessment was incorrect. It was at this point I had you brought to me. I recall you did not enjoy our first meeting. Following my defeat here, I can understand why having the barrel of a blaster pressed against the back of your skull upset you. I did not enjoy you knocking me out before putting me in the tube. I commend you for lifting my dead weight. You did read that correctly; I complimented you._

_It is difficult to write this, but know that the abuses I brought upon you were not out of pure malice and disdain for your existence. So much as you tried to remain defiant, we both know I caused more harm then you were ever willing to admit. It is in this regard we are similar: we will both skirt honesty and put ourselves through needless internal turmoil to save face. The difference is in how we deal with that. On several occasions you made a point that was true about me. In my inability to grasp that you are intelligent, I lashed out. This is an area of conflict for me, for others have tried and failed to make me aware of my faults and I do not care for their words. From your mouth, the words cut deeper beneath my skin and I do not understand why. This is why I tried to force your compliance and subjugation through threat and use of violence; you made me angry because you refused to yield. You made my job difficult._

_Further conflict stems from this. Until my capture, I was proud of my job, messy and taxing as it was. Some quintants I would consider whether I truly needed to see you, and if you recall, those were the quintants where I would speak at you only. I understand it must have been confusing at first, but I noticed the more I would offer and allowed you free speech, the more interested I think we both became. The night I took the inhibitor away, I was curious to see what you would do. I was surprised you did not attempt to slay me where I stood, but I suppose at that point, the labs had eaten into your strength reserves. We called each other weak. For some reason, I believe your words more than my own. I have asked myself whether I could have undergone what you did. I do not think I could. I may not have enjoyed my confinement on this Altean ship at the mercy of children, but for someone who was once my prisoner, you have not humiliated me like I expected. This pleases me. You made it clear that you would 'never be like me', which is part-insulting, part-reassuring._

_I believe you took my silence upon capture as a sign of contempt against you. I will be honest: it was not. When you demanded answers about what you could not recall, at first I felt powerful having that hold over you, but that quickly dissipated. What point was there telling you what I did to you in the name of the Empire? You were becoming more desperate in your attempts, and I was finding myself uncertain of all things. Again, this was something I could not process. It has been thousands of deca-phoebs since I held such feelings; feelings that were beaten out of any soldier aiming for greatness within the Empire and the Emperor's trust. It was what I had always prided myself on. Until you caught me._

_Even if I returned to the Empire, my station would not save me. All mistakes are weakness. All losses must be rectified. Those considered weak are executed. You know that intimately enough. Perhaps you think I should perish, and if that is so, then I will only allow it by your hand. I have never said it aloud, nor think I could, but here I can write it._

_Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, the Black Paladin and head of Voltron, you have earned my respect._

_I am at conflict over my perceptions of you. You have got further under my skin then I realised, much like I have done to you. There are thoughts I think I must have, and those I wish or want to have. It is why I must leave. When it is time, I will seek you out. I must be sure of myself and my intentions._

_My only request, which I am sure you will fulfil, is to stay alive._

_It is something you have always been good at._

Shiro stared at letter, reading and rereading. It'd been slipped under his pillow, found as he laid down to sleep. Sendak still remembered how he slept. He scrubbed at his bleary eyes. Something from space had caused the Castle to stop working. The teleduv had almost blown them all to smithereens. Coran and Pidge had saved their asses with their quick-thinking, but Sendak was gone when they realised the entire ship was effected. He'd taken the shuttle that Pidge had upgraded. They couldn't find it – _he_ couldn't find it – even in Black.

Metal fingers crumpled the paper in his hand. He couldn't tell the others about _this_ , not after they were already sceptical about how frequently he would go there, and that was on the basis they didn't know about his late-night visits. He tossed the paper to the corner of the bed and tried to settle down. He couldn't think about this now, what it meant. Sendak had found words and saying what lay beneath the surface difficult, at least from what he remembered. He was right about that in the letter – they were both similar in that regard. The notion of considering themselves similar left Shiro conflicted. It was someone who understood him, who he understood too. Well, he snorted, _thought_ he knew. He hissed through his teeth; the next time he saw Sendak, if he ever did, he was going to punch him.

-

“I was wondering when you'd finally show up again.”

Shiro stopped and tilted his head over his shoulder to look at Sendak from the shadow of the Black Lion. Sendak's throat suddenly felt dry, like his ability to speak was lost.

“I guess you moved past your conflict.” Shiro turned his head away, motioning him to follow. Sendak did, flexing the considerably smaller prosthetic fingers compared to what he had before. It was proportionate, but freelance work only earned you so much. He followed Shiro on board the Black Lion, scrutinising what Zarkon had spent ten thousand deca-phoebs lusting over. Shiro came to a door that swished open, and Sendak found himself being silently ordered to sit on the bed by the point of Shiro's finger.

“Did you find the-”

“The letter? The one that you left oh-so-tenderly under my pillow? The fact you just _left_ without a word?” Shiro all but yelled as he moved with all the force of a solar wind towards him, eyes burning like a star. This hadn't changed. “I _did_ , and there's something _I_ want to say.”

Sendak was about to open his mouth when the prosthetic fist smashed into his jaw. Reflexively, he grabbed at his cheek, understanding this was deserved. It stung.

“A year, Sendak. That's two now; two years I've had you rattling around inside my head.” His voice was even as he glowered at him. “So what was it? An attempt at an apology?”

Sendak went to nod his head, but stopped at the arching eyebrow.

“Some parts, yes.”

“So it was an apology and a confession.”

“It was.”

“Then tell me. Tell me what this year has made you realise.” Shiro pushed away from him and moved to the opposite wall, leaning up against it with both arms folded across his chest. It was time Sendak let all the words he'd left unspoken finally come to the surface. From there, it was in Shiro's court.

“I could not stop thinking about you. When I said you had gotten under my skin, I was being truthful. I have been,” he frowned at the floor, “obsessing over you. Your conquest over Zarkon, when I heard, left me speechless. You have done much to push back the Empire,” he glanced back up, “and to see you undo work I had done thousands of deca-phoebs before left me feeling proud, perhaps envious that it was you to undo it.”

“It was all of us. The other Paladins, our allies.” Shiro narrowed his eyes.

“But would I be incorrect in saying it was by your strategies? You are a leader, you command respect.” At this, Sendak watched him tense and glance away.

“Get to the point.”

“Fine. Your mere presence leaves a feeling of deficit when you are not around. Your mind, empathy, inner strength, pragmatic and adaptive approach to life are attractive traits to me. Traits I wish I never tried to destroy. I know I harmed you, and I can finally ask you formally: Takashi Shirogane, would you ever be able to forgive me?”

The silence was painful as Shiro scrutinised him and his words. Nothing about his features gave away what was going on beneath the surface. Even his usually expressive eyes yielded nothing. Shiro used to fear the silence between them, but now Sendak was starting to feel slightly unnerved.

“You no longer fear me.”

“No.” Shiro's arms fell to the side as he moved forward. “There is nothing left to fear. You aren't the same man as before.” He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes level with Sendak's.

“Neither are you.”

“I know. I'll admit, Sendak, you got under my skin just as much.” He watched the knee that planted itself between his open thighs. “There's a lot I want to say to you right now, but I can't.”

“Why? You used to speak with such fire. What stops you now?” He didn't flinch at the hands that gripped both shoulders. Didn't blink when Shiro moved in close, pupils flicking between his lips and eyes.

“My own conflict,” Shiro snorted, “maybe I should take a year off to organise my thoughts?”

“If you consider i-”

Lips pressed against his as Shiro levered himself forward with a growl. Sendak felt Shiro's tongue brush against his own. Their hands groped and grabbed for more purchase as the kiss deepened; a desperate hunger and want boiling in the depths of Sendak's chest as teeth grazed lips; fingers dug into clothed flesh. Shiro was straddling his hips.

It only broke so Shiro could breathe. Inches apart, Sendak could feel the hot breath against his skin. Shiro pushed his fingers through Sendak's fur, while he found himself holding Shiro's head in place. Both panted. Shiro's eyes were dark in the light.

“This is either the biggest mistake of my life,” Shiro licked his own lips, “or the best decision I've ever made. What do you think?”

Sendak stared at the wet lips partially open. He took stock of those eyes that shone back. They said the words Shiro refused to say aloud.

Sendak kissed him.

Shiro kissed back.

Hands grabbed desperately at flight suits and clasps. Sendak found flesh first, dragging his fingers down the exposed chest.

“Get under my skin.” Shiro groaned against his mouth, grabbing Sendak by the wrist. He allowed Shiro to drag his claws down his body again, red trails left in their wake. “I promise you, you'll hear what I'll have to say. You just need to _make_ me say it.” Sendak let him rest his hand against the obvious bulge between his legs. Shiro shivered, in turn rousing his own desires that he knew Shiro could feel considering his position.

“I do not want to be a mistake.” Sendak muttered.

“Don't do a bad job and lose your chance, then.”

“Say yes, Shiro.” Sendak kept his gaze steady with Shiro's. For a few long moments, the only noise between them was their soft panting.

“Yes.” Shiro whispered. Sendak nodded, and with little effort pulled him down into another kiss. Shiro wrapped his arms around his neck while Sendak forced the flight suit down past his ass. With a small growl, he kneaded the skin. Shiro ground his hips forward.

The words Shiro didn't say aloud were crystal clear in Sendak's mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to play catch up, thanks for being patient!
> 
> Will try get the next piece up soon, as my friend won't be staying here with me now.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
